


Apocalyptic

by TraceofInk



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Kidfic, Zombie Apocalypse, fight for survival, kidtony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TraceofInk/pseuds/TraceofInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>apoc·a·lyp·tic</p>
<p>Definition of APOCALYPTIC<br/>1<br/>: of, relating to, or resembling an apocalypse<br/>2<br/>: forecasting the ultimate destiny of the world : prophetic<br/>3<br/>: foreboding imminent disaster or final doom : terrible<br/>4<br/>: wildly unrestrained : grandiose<br/>5<br/>: ultimately decisive : climactic </p>
            </blockquote>





	Apocalyptic

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy my walk on the wild side of fanfiction...

1.

The small boy in Sarah’s arms had his face buried in the older woman’s chest and was whimpering softly.  
“Shush,” Sarah pleaded in a whisper and cast fearful eyes over to the closed door where Sam and Jack had disappeared through. “You need to stay silent now, boy.”  
“Mommy,” the boy hiccuped and Sarah pressed him a little firmer against her body.  
“I know, love, I know.”

*#*

Jack avoided a bloody hand that made a grab for him by twisting to his right and gasped when his movement brought him face to face to another rotting creature.  
Grey and white skin, mottled with blood and gore and-; he frowned, before his eyes widened in shocked realization-; deep wounds filled with maggots and bloodshot eyes, Jack’s new opponent did leave something to be desired-   
Jack did a mighty shudder when the creature moved in his direction and he could hear the wet, slurping sounds of something it dragged along behind it, but he didn’t dare to move his eyes away from the creature’s face to have a look. He’d made that mistake once-  
“Jack,” someone shouted from beside him and that was enough to spur the creature into action.  
It lunged at the man with a snarl and Jack tried to jump backwards, but stumbled over a dead body on the ground. He spin wheeled his arms for what felt like minutes, but was, in reality, less than a second, before his backside made painful contact with the floor and he raised his arms up and in front of him and not too soon, because the creature was suddenly there, snarling and salivating, its red eyes glowing and its hands trying to claw at him with unnatural strength-  
“JACK!”  
The right side of the creature’s head exploded and red mist mixed with non- identifiable chunks sprayed against the wall beside Jack and the man grunted when the creature’s dead body pinned him to the ground.  
“Get him out of there,” a unknown voice ordered harshly and Jack exhaled in relief when the body was rolled from above him and he was able to breath again.  
“You okay?” Sam asked with a shaking voice and Jack nodded once before he started to search for the owner of new voice.  
“Was he bitten?” the stranger asked and Jack watched with somewhat of a morbid fascination how Sam backed away a step.  
“N-no,” Jack worked himself into a standing position and patted himself down from his chest to calves. “No-” he answered more firmly. “I’m good.”  
“Good,” the stranger stepped nearer and the light made it finally possible for Jack to have a look at his rescuer.  
The man was almost as tall as he; his grey hair trimmed in an typical marine haircut; wrapped in a coat a few numbers too big; a scarf loosely around his shoulders and his eyes were icy blue and cold as the weather outside. He held a rifle in his right hand and a backpack in the other.  
“Thanks,” Jack said and made a step forward, only to stop short when the man glared at him.  
“You’re trespassing,” the man stated and let his backpack fall to the ground.  
Jack looked to Sam, who shrugged wordless and made a small wave with his hand, clearly to indicate that Jack should do the talking with this one.  
Jack rolled his eyes and glared at Sam, who fell to his knees and started to frisk the nearest body.  
“So,” the stranger surprised him a little by talking on. His voice hoarse, obviously not used for much talking in the past. “Who are you two clowns?”  
Sure, Jack could be offended, but, hell-  
“I’m Jack McAdams and that’s Sam Masterson-” Jack pointed over to the blond man who was now sitting on his haunches beside the remains of a woman they had seen a while ago running away from them. “-we’re from Fredericksburg.”  
“Fredericksburg? And you’re stranded here, of all places?”  
“We’re on our way to-”  
“Sam! Shut ya trap!”  
The stranger smirked knowingly, before his face hardened again, “My name is Gibbs.”  
“You’re a Marine,” Sam stated and blushed when Jack glared at him, but refused to back down. “My Pa has been in the corp, too.”  
Jack’s face softened in remembrance and he nodded before he fixed his eyes on the stranger, “That’s right, Sammy. Look mister-”  
“Gibbs.”  
“ ‘scuse me?”  
“Name’s Gibbs,” the stranger said somewhat impatiently and watched a little weary how Sam got clumsy to his feet.   
“We’ve got to go now, Jack,” Sam said, suddenly in a hectic rush.  
“I know, Sam,” Jack soothed without looking at him.   
Sam gnawed on his bottom lip for a second, before he nodded to himself, “Tony and Sarah-”  
“Sam,” Jack groaned and watched how the stranger, Gibbs, was listening with interest.  
“You’re not alone?”  
“No.”  
“We are two more,” Sam supplied helpfully. “They are hiding.”  
“Hiding? Where?” Gibbs asked, his eyes never leaving Jack’s face.  
“Outside, in a shack,” Sam answered dutifully and Jack fought the urge to strangle him for giving so much about them away to a stranger.  
“Let’s go,” Gibbs ordered and bend down to grab his backpack.  
“Let’s go? Wait-” Jack growled. “Who said we would want ya on-”  
“Didn’t you see the sign on the door outside?” Gibbs asked in a huff and turned to hurry down the corridor which would lead them outside. “It’s not safe here.”  
“Why the hell not?” Jack exploded and grunted when he run into Sam’s back.  
“Gee! I don’t know, maybe because the backside of this building went to hell when some yahoo’s tried to shot some of THEM into the next millennium?” Gibbs sneered and smiled grimly when he heard Jack’s “Fuck!”

*#*

Sarah gasped in surprise when the door she’d been watching so intently for the last half an hour or so, swung inside and she blinked at the harsh light streaming in and pressed the boy’s unresisting body a little firmer against her chest.  
“Relax, Sarah,” Jack’s voice ordered before the older woman was able to identify the man she had been traveling with for the last few months.  
“Jack?” she asked, still blinking furiously. “What happened?”  
“Nothing much,” Jack replied and Sarah could see how he pointed to the third man, who was standing behind them and to their left.  
“Sarah,” Sam let himself fall aside of the older woman and placed a hand on Sarah’s arm. “We met one of the good guys, right Jack?”  
Hopeful blue eyes met brown ones and Jack couldn’t find it in him to disagree out loud, so he chose another way and simply shrugged.  
Sarah had another reason to gasp when Gibbs appeared beside her and placed a mitten covered hand on the sleeping child’s forehead.  
“Since when does he have that fever?”   
“Since last night,” Sarah answered and Sam started to rock back and forth beside her.  
“He fell into the river yesterday morning when he was chased by- by-,” a sob broke free from between Sarah’s lips.  
“One of us got bitten the night before and we didn’t realized that something was wrong before she was fully turned and started to attack the boy-” Jack added gruffly. “She chased him out onto the river-”  
“The river? The ice’s not thick enough to carry anyone,” Gibbs interrupted.  
“-it’s been the only chance for the boy to escape,” Jack retorted impatiently.   
Gibbs stood and Sarah watched with weary eyes how the man opened his backpack.  
Everyone froze when they heard snarling coming from just outside the door.  
“We need to get out of here,” Gibbs said in a whisper and pulled a silvery square out of one of the pockets of his backpack.  
“I’m down with that,” Jack whispered back. “There’s only one problem-”  
“There is no problem,” Sarah said harshly and extended one of her hands toward Sam. “Help me up.”  
“What problem?” Gibbs asked and frowned when he had his first good look of the, now standing, woman.  
The woman appeared drawn out and tired, just like everyone else in that shack, but she also could only barely keep herself upright and Gibbs doubted that she would be able to go very far, let alone run for her life.  
“Sarah sprained her ankle when we tried to get the boy out of the water,” Jack answered, his eyes filled with regret when the older woman glared at him. “It’s no good to keep it a secret, woman. We’ve got to move fast if we want to get out of here with our hides intact-”  
Sarah huffed, but nodded and trust the child into Sam’s open arms.  
“You’re right,” she said and smiled softly at the sleeping child. “And I’m well aware that I won’t make it very far-”  
“Sarah-” Sam started.  
“Shush, boy,” the older woman ordered and turned as good as she could over to Jack and Gibbs, who was busy with unfolding a rescue blanket. “I’ll stay here-”  
“What? No,” Jack shouted and winced when something impacted with the door.  
“Listen to me, Jack,” Sarah said calmly. “I’m hurt and, god knows, at my age I’m simply not as fast anymore than I would have been in my youth-”  
Gibbs ignored the debate and had a look around the small building.  
One of those big cable drums stood between some cardboard boxes and he went over to have a closer look.  
The woman was right, her injury would make it impossible for her to keep up with them-  
He grunted when he lifted the cable drum up and carried it over to the injured woman.  
“Sit,” he ordered and smiled slightly at her when she complied without a comment. He moved his coat aside and pulled something from the small of his back and handed it over.  
A handgun.  
It was black and shiny and Sarah smiled grimly.  
“It’s been awhile since I saw one of those,” she said and weighted it by moving her hand up and down.  
“It’s easy to use, just take the safety off like this,-” he flicked the little switch off and on again with his forefinger. “- take aim and pull the trigger when you’re ready,” Gibbs whispered and patted her hand when he saw the tears starting to fall.   
Sarah nodded and took a deep breath, “Promise me to look out for them. M-m-make sure they are safe, especially Tony. The poor boy, he’ll never- It’s been his own mother who’d tried to kill him and I’m afraid that-”  
“Don’t worry about them,” Gibbs soothed. “I’ll do my best to keep them safe-”  
“Give me your word,” she demanded and surprised the man with a hard, piercing look that seemed to penetrate his very soul.   
The look of one who knew that he wouldn’t survive the next hour.  
Gibbs had seen it in so many faces since the beginning of this nightmare, that he’d lost count.  
“I, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Gunnery Sergeant of the United States Marine Corp and NCIS Special Agent-”  
“What are they talking about,” Sam whispered to Jack, who stood just a step away from him.  
“Dunno,” Jack answered somewhat irritated and glanced over to the door. “Wait here.”  
He glared at Sam for a moment, promising him with his look that he would be in a world of pain if he ignored the order.  
Sam had the mind of a child and has taken an instant liking to Jack from the instant they had met, which often meant that he often stressed Jack’s patience.  
Jack went over to the left side of the door and gazed outside.  
THEY were everywhere, stumbling and slipping in the snow and ice that covered the streets.  
He sighed sadly when he watched how a small girl stood a few feet away from the door, her clothes torn and her pale body covered in deep wounds. He shuddered when he realized that he was even able to see some of her white bones through them and wondered briefly how much she had to suffer before the virus had turned her to the monster she now was.  
“Anything?” Gibbs asked and Jack shook his head. He was surprised that Gibbs was able to move so silently, but refused to show it.  
The man was a stranger after all...  
“No,” Jack answered in a whisper. “Looks like they are losing interest-”  
“That’s good,” Gibbs cast a look outside himself and flinched when he also saw that little girl.

Nine Months previously:  
Stillwater, Pennsylvania

Jackson waited behind the closed doors of his shop for the arrival of his only son and his son’s family.  
The winchester was resting in the crook of his left arm and he frowned at the wood that blocked the door and hoped it would hold for a while longer.  
The virus had reached the town just two days ago and Jackson still couldn’t believe that something he couldn’t even see would be able to change people like that.  
But he had witnessed it.  
Had watched how Marty Roberts had brought his wife to the Doc’s office the day before yesterday morning, feverish and screaming from the top of her lungs.  
He had watched, together with the doctor, the sheriff and Marty how, in spite of some hours, the woman had changed. Her hair had been matted with sweat and her skin had broken open in places, the wounds started to ooze a mix of blood, pus and something brown that Jack had been unable to identify.  
She had still screamed, even when her voice had become hoarse and it had pained Jackson to listen to it.   
Pained him so much, that he felt the urge to leave...to just run away...  
But in the end he had stayed.  
Stayed and watched how Marty’s sweet, little wife’s body decayed while they were watching.  
Big patches of her skin had fallen away, revealing muscles and bones and more of the odd fluid that started to smell like rotting fish.  
She’d stopped screaming sometime around noon at least and everyone had breathed a sigh of relief and Jackson hoped that the worst would be over- that she would die and give them some kind of peace- he’d never anticipated that she would start to move like she had done- with a wet, slurping, nauseating sound- when no one was paying attention to her.  
She grabbed Marty, who started to scream in a mix of fear and surprise and the sheriff lounged himself at her with a colorful curse.  
The doctor was standing too far away to help, but Jackson didn’t.  
He took a firmer hold of his winchester, his loyal companion since his son had called a few days ago and went over to the struggling people.  
“Hey,” he shouted and raised the butt of his weapon. He paled when the woman looked at him directly, bloodshot eyes in a waxy face, the mouth cruelly twisted and he’d been able to see that even her gums were bleeding.   
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and imagined that the woman would look at him with pleading eyes, even when there was no recognition in her face at all.   
The butt of his gun made contact with the woman’s head with a loud ‘Crack!’ and Jackson watched how she stumbled backwards.  
He expected her to fall, the force he had used would have had been enough to cause a serious concussion, what he’d not expected had been that she shook her head once before she started forward again.  
Jackson stepped back and avoided her hands, which were nothing like human hands anymore, but claw-shaped, with bloody cracks in the skin.  
She hadn’t had a chance to do anything more than to take a few steps into Jackson Gibbs’ direction before a loud ‘bang!’ let her head explode and the her body fell forward and Jackson did a sigh of relief when he saw the sheriff standing behind her with his gun still raised.  
The sudden silence in the room had been deafening.  
Marty took a shaking step, then another and another, until he stood beside the dead body of his wife for thirty years.  
Mother and Grandmother.  
Jackson shivered and clutched his winchester even tighter and his gut started to churn in earnest when he watched how Marty fell to his knees and started to sob.

The Sheriff holstered his gun again and turned to the doctor, who was still holding on a vial of blood he’d taken from the woman a few minutes earlier.  
“What the hell happened here?” he asked, his voice a little shaky, but still firm enough to shake the doctor out of the state of shock he was in.  
“I-I-,” the doctor took a deep breath and cast an apologetic look to the sheriff. “I really don’t know.”  
The doctor raised the hand with the vial up to have a closer look and his eyes widened when he saw the black mass in it. “I’ll need a few hours-”

Jackson bend down and used his free hand to pull Marty up, “Come on, Marty. It’s time to let her go.”  
“No,” Marty shouted and tried to twist free, but Jackson refused to let the man go.  
“She’s dead, man. Nothing you’ll do will change that,” Jackson’s eyes grew misty, he remembered all too clearly when he’d lost his own wife years ago.   
“I loved her so much. I can’t live without her,” Marty said in a tear choked voice.  
“Don’t be foolish, of course you can,” Jackson pulled a little harder and Marty finally moved. “You’ve got your children to live for and your grandkids-”  
“She never listened to anything I told her. Every poor soul she had to save, regardless of what I or anyone else said. She would just-” Marty swallowed painfully. “She would just invite them into our house and give them something to eat-” the man turned anguished eyes to the old man who was still holding onto his arm. “Why wouldn’t she listen? Just once?”  
“What happened,” Jackson asked softly.  
Marty groaned as if in pain and Jackson tensed before he realized what kind of pain the man was suffering off.  
“I’ve been on the field for an hour and Elisabeth was in the kitchen- Cristine phoned us yesterday and told us that she couldn’t come, because Matt has the flu-” Marty sighed. “They had planned to bake all day for that fundraiser on the weekend-”  
Jackson nodded.  
Everyone had hoped that the donated money would be enough to repair the belfry of the only church in town, that was set on fire by lightning a few months ago.  
“My tractor was acting up, so I came in from the back-door to call Joseph- t-t-there was someone in the kitchen with Elisabeth- a-a-a man. He had pinned her to the ground and she tried to fight him off-”  
Marty sobbed again.  
“I kicked him away from her and- and pulled her up,” the man looked straight into Jackson’s face. “He’d bitten her-”  
“Where’s that man now?” the sheriff asked, suddenly appearing from behind the distraught man.  
“He- he tried to attack me and I- I fought him off and kicked him down the stairs to the basement,” a light appeared in the man’s eyes that Jackson didn’t liked one bit.  
The light of madness paired with the wish for revenge.  
“Elisabeth locked the door. She locked the door, before she- she- she,” he turned his head to look at the dead body once again.

The sheriff had had a hard time to convince Marty Roberts to stay with Jackson Gibbs instead to join him and his men to the farm, but in the end he’d succeeded.

Jackson doesn’t know what happened at the farm, but the Sheriff and his men never returned back.  
He cast another look over to the door and sighed.  
The door would hold as long as needed, he was sure about it, but he couldn’t stop to worry about his son Jethro and his boy’s family.

*

“Dad?”   
Jackson opened his eyes and cast a look around the dark shop, before he realized that the voice came from the front door.  
“Leroy?” he asked with more than a hint of relief in his voice and rose laboriously to his feet. 

*  
Present Time:

“We’ll need a distraction for them,” Jack noted and was surprised when Gibbs gave him a curt nod.  
“Maybe, maybe-”  
“Sam,” Jack and Sarah both spoke together and Gibbs watched how the big, blond man flinched in surprise.  
Jack sighed before he turned to address the man directly, “You need to lower your voice, boy, okay?”  
“‘m sorry,” Sam whispered and hoisted the boy’s body a little higher.  
“What was it that you wanted to say, Sammy?” Sarah asked with a patient smile on her face.

*#*

“You think he’s in trouble?” the woman asked the old man beside her and gnawed on her lower lip, a sure sign that she was worried about her “Silver Fox”.  
“Well, my dear Abigail, I think Jethro is quite capable of fending for himself if the need arises,” the man answered, but couldn’t really hide the worried glances he cast through the window in front of them. “But then again...Maybe it would not be such a bad idea to have Timothy to get the car ready-”  
“Right, Duck-man,” Abigail, short called Abby, nodded her head furiously; her black bangs flying wildly around before she was bouncing away.  
Donald “Ducky” Mallard twisted his face into a smile, even when he really didn’t feel like it at the moment; he cast another look through the window and sent a quick prayer to heaven that his friend would be alright.  
*#*  
“Maybe,” Sam started again with a slight blush on his face. “Maybe we should go through that hole behind those cabinets over there-”  
“Hole?” Gibbs and Jack asked in surprise and Sam smiled delightful and pointed over to the opposite wall, never losing his hold on the boy in his arms and Gibbs couldn’t help but admire the strength the man apparently possessed.  
Sure enough, behind the cabinets filled with all kinds of stuff, was a hole, not yet big enough, but a few well placed kicks by the men would give them enough room to slip through it...only problem was-  
“This won’t work,” Jack noted with a grimace. “One kick and they’ll come running from every direction.”  
“We’ll need to work fast,” Gibbs stated and glanced over to Sam. “I’ll bet my stash of coffee that your guy will get it done with one kick.”  
“What? Sammy?” Jack asked surprised and stared at Gibbs for a moment before he shrugged and smiled. “Not gonna know it, if we’re not trying it, right? But let’s get one thing straight first, okay? What kind of coffee do you have?”  
Gibbs glared at Jack. 

*#*

Sarah gasped when Sam broke through the wall with just one kick and watched how Gibbs smirked over at Jack before the man tensed and pulled a gun from under his coat.  
“You first,” he said to Sam and Sarah watched how the man cast a worried look to the small boy in the big man’s arms. “You need to keep him quiet.”  
Sam simply nodded and clutched the boy harder against himself.  
“Don’t forget your promise,” Sarah said and clicked the safety of her gun off and pointed it at the door.  
“I won’t,” Gibbs replied and gave a small nod before he disappeared through the hole.  
“I’m-”  
“Don’t,” Sarah ordered harshly. “I lived my life, Jack.”  
The woman wanted to say more.  
So much more, but-  
She knew the door couldn’t withhold a attack for long.  
And the noise just had to attract them.  
Both flinched when a loud screeching was filling the small room, followed by the noise of a heavy body hitting the wood of the door.  
“You’ve got to go now, boy,” Sarah said, her eyes were filling with tears, but she refused to let them fall.   
This was the moment she had feared for so long.  
“I-”  
“Go!” she shouted and Jack gave a sharp nod.  
She watched how the man slipped through the hole at the same time as the door finally gave way under the onslaught and she swallowed hard one last time and pulled the trigger...

*#*

The girl was watching from afar how the small group escaped and cocked her head to the left when a strange humming sound came from the opposite direction.  
Her dress was dirty and ripped open in places and her arms and legs bore the marks of the martyrdom she had to endure, just before she’d been turned into the being she now was.  
Dead, but walking.  
But she was something more than the other creatures which were walking with her.  
She snarled at a creature beside her, a being, which was missing, what looked like, half of its body, but which was still trying to reach the shack to gain itself a little piece of the fresh body within. She scratched its face with her hands in frustration, when she realized that “The Man” was escaping from her yet again.  
The wet noise her finger made, when the rotting flesh of the creature gave way to her assault aroused her hunger and she purred in pleasure when she bend down as fast as lightning and sunk her teeth into the decaying flesh of the creature and her mouth was filled with the foul liquid which had once been the creature’s blood.  
She ignored the struggling of the defenseless body and simply fed herself until her hunger was sated again.

*#*

The small boy was starting to become restless in Sam’s arms and the big man had a hard time to hold on to the now squirming body and gasped when he barely managed to avoid the claw-like hands reaching for them.  
“Keep moving,” Gibbs, who suddenly appeared beside them, ordered and Sam watched in morbid fascination how the man drove a knife into the head of the creature, which was dropping like a stone, the moment its brain was pierced.  
Gibbs bend down and removed the knife with a swift move, he turned around to see how Jack was doing and growled in annoyance when he saw how the distance between them and Jack had grown.  
A handful of those monsters was closing in on the man and Gibbs twisted his head to look at Sam and the boy. 

*#*

Timothy McGee was steering the car through the streets as fast as possible. He did a sigh of relief when he saw the small group of people ahead of him and thanked the powers that be for one of the new rules Gibbs had inflicted a while ago.  
Always tell others where you going.   
The young man smiled grimly.   
That would be Rule #79, or #80 by now.   
McGee shook his head and concentrated back on what he was doing again. He tried to avoid hitting the walking bodies, but They were everywhere...  
He flinched, when he hit a body head on and the windshield was smeared with black, cloggy blood and grayish clunks and imagined for a second how long it would take him to clean up the car when they would be back at the Yard.

But then his mind was back at the task at hand and he honked the horn three times to get Gibbs’ attention.

*#*

Gibbs did an inward sigh of relief, when he heard the honking from behind.  
He let himself fall back and watched how Sam kicked one of the attacking monsters away and went on on his way before he turned around to help Jack.

*#*

Jack glared with hateful eyes at the jammed weapon in his hand before he turned and used the back of said weapon to knock in the skull of one of the nearest creatures.  
He shouted in surprise when he was grabbed from behind-

*#*

Sam reached the door and did a sigh of relief, but his relief was short lived, because the door refused to open.  
He tried to yank it open with all his strength and gave a whimper when he felt Tony slip.  
“Hang on, buddy,” the man pleaded and tried again to open the door. “Just a little longer.”  
A sharp, ripping pain in his right calf made Sam scream and he turned around-  
-and froze-  
There was the body of a small boy; the skin grayish with hints of blue and black and lifeless eyes, but what really draw Sam’s attention was the mouth.  
Smeared with spittle and blood...his blood when he guessed correctly by the pain he felt traveling up his leg.  
He kicked the body away from himself and Tony and shuddered when he felt a wave of cold air against his leg and the warmth of his blood running down to his ankle.  
“Bad boy,” he growled. “Bad, bad boy.” 

*#*

Gibbs grunted when he pulled Jack away from the creatures around them and into the direction of the building they’ve been originally heading before they were crowded. He kept an eye on the growling and snarling creatures and jumped in surprise when Jack screamed from beside him.  
“Sammy!”

*#*

There was not much the big man with the mind of a boy could do anymore, except to use all his strength to open the door and get them to safety. He grunted when his leg almost gave out under him, but he put everything he had in staying upright a little longer...just a little longer...to protect the boy...his friend...the only one of their little group who used to treat him like a friend and not like the brain damaged man he was.  
Sure, he knew about it.  
He knew that his mother was to fault for it, too. Because she used to drink and smoke everything she was able to get her hands on…  
Sam squeezed the too thin body in his arms a little tighter, before he bend down and placed him on the floor.  
“Sam is sorry, Tony,” he said and took a step backwards. “Sam won’t be around to show Tony how to fish.”  
Tony whimpered and Sam sobbed and let himself fall on his backside just outside the building.  
“Sammy?”  
Jack used to call him that, every time when the big man managed to get himself into some kind trouble.   
Gibbs cast a look at the fast approaching car and cursed his bad luck. Only a few minutes more would have had been enough.  
Only a few moments and he could have saved them all, but now-  
He raised his weapon and shot the creature behind Jack into its head.  
“Sam’s sorry, Jack,” Sam said and run a hand through his hair. His skin was already turning blue and Jack could see the shivers running through the big man’s body.  
“Dammit,” Jack cursed and placed a trembling hand on the man’s chest.   
“I don’t want to eat you, Jack,” Sam said and bit down on his lower lip.  
“You won’t,” Jack patted Sam’s chest a few times, before he took a step backwards. “I promise.”  
Sam nodded.  
He was no fool after all.  
The shot came not unexpected, but so sudden that Jack screamed as the big man’s head exploded and blood and grey matters sprayed against the wall behind him.  
The man stared transfixed at the bodily remains of his friend and couldn’t suppress the sob that escaped him, but he was not allowed to mourn the loss of his friend right now, because Gibbs pushed him to the door of the building.  
“Get in,” the older Marine growled and pushed again to get the man moving. “There’s help coming, but we need to get inside.”  
“W-W-why?”  
“You’ll see,” was all the answer he received.

*#*

“Okay, get ready,” Timothy ordered and watched how his passenger pulled some bottles out of his backpack. “On three you’ll throw the first one.”  
The man rummaged through the backpack and cursed colorfully.  
“What?” McGee asked annoyed and cursed himself when he had to steer out of the way of a body.  
“I can’t find the lighter,” the voice was frantic and Tim glared at the man before he bend over and opened the glove compartment.  
“Look in there,” he ordered harshly and growled when he had to steer around another obstacle on their way. “One-”  
*#*  
“Get away from that door,” Gibbs ordered and lifted the boy from the floor.   
“Why? What’s going on,” Jack asked with growing panic and wise enough to do what he’d been told.  
“Help’s coming,” Gibbs explained and watched how the creatures out there where trying to open the door, which Gibbs had barricaded with a chain around the handles. “And it won’t be pretty.”

*#*

“-two-”

 

The Navy Yard had fast become their refuge against a world gone mad and was now filled with almost two hundred survivors, mostly Marines and their families.  
They’d been right to come, the Yard was and still is easier to defend than any other building in Washington D.C., with big gates and only one way in, well except for the way over water, which could become a problem soon, if it’ll stay that cold.

Mike Franks stood to Abby’s right at the big window and watched with a carefully schooled expression how a ball of fire rose not so far away to the sky and grabbed Abby’s hand when the woman gasped loudly.  
“He’ll be alright, right?” she asked and didn’t wait for an answer before she spoke again. “Of course he will, he’s Gibbs. He survived worse things than that, right?! Right?”  
“You are quite right, my dear,” Ducky said from her left side and cast a look over to Mike before he smiled at the young woman. “He’s a survivor.”  
Abby nodded frantically and grinned at the older ME-  
“Okay people,” Tom Morrow’s voice echoed through the bullpen. “Two minutes. Get ready.”  
The Navy Yard was fortunate enough to own a couple of generators and every day they would be activated for a few minutes to be able to send and receive some messages and to do some deets which could only be done with electricity.  
“We’ll need you in the lab, Abigail,” Ducky said and placed a calming hand on Abby’s left shoulder.   
“Sure, Duckman,” Abby nodded curtly and turned into the direction of the stairway.   
“Mike,” Ducky started.  
“I’ll be at the gates,” Mike grinned and patted the sniper’s rifle which was resting against his right leg. “Someone has to kick Probie’s ass when he comes home.”

The gates opened with a loud creaking noise and the opening was instantly covered by a dozen soldiers, ready to defend the only thing that made this life worth living.   
No one made a sound, even when a few of those monsters came straight into their direction. They all had had this kind of situation often enough to know by now what worked best...and to wait and see was more effective than to shoot reckless into a herd of rotting man-eater, for whom every noise acted like a bell for the next course on their menu.  
Spencer watched with tepid eyes how three of THEM were coming nearer and grabbed his rifle a little harder. The last encounter with one of THEM was still vivid in his memory-  
“Get ready,” their C.O. ordered and the mechanic sound of rifles being loaded and the safety released was the only thing to hear...that and the sound of boots in the snow...men breathing heavily…  
The silence was broken when a car careened around the corner and honked its horn three times.  
“Okay,” the C.O. shouted. “Those are our men coming home, boys. Let’s give them some backup.”  
Spencer concentrated on the creature in front of him...one shot...two...three...So deeply was he under that he didn’t recognized the danger until it’s been almost too late.  
The shot rang out and the resulting mess drenched the left side of his uniform with foul smelling stuff- nothing he wanted to think about too much- but he knew that he would have to have a very long, very thoroughly shower when this was over.  
He cast a look to where the shot had come from and saw Agent Franks waving, with a shit-eating grin on his face and, like always, a cigarette on his lips. He’d just enough time to give a small wave back, before on of the creatures appeared in front of him.  
Spencer used the back of his rifle to get some distance between them, before he swirled his weapon around and ended its existence with a bullet through its head.  
Only a few moments after that and the car was inside and the gates closed again, secured by some heavy chains and locks and guarded by some soldiers, who were watching the vibrating doors with a mix of annoyance and disbelieve.  
Spencer’s best friend gave him a slap on the back, “Stupid bastards, eh? Still trying to climb the gates-”  
One of the first things they had done, after making sure that the Navy Yard would be free of those creatures and safe for their families had been to “secure” the gate with rows over rows of sharp blades arranged in tiers from ground to top. Spencer shuddered when he saw the dark liquid which was forming a puddle under the gate, but the smell was the worst of it. Foul and rancid, like nothing he’d ever experienced before.  
Nothing he’d ever wanted to experience, dammit!  
“Jo, bro,” Randy slapped him again, harder this time. “Ya in there?”  
“Sorry,” Spencer shook his head and gave his friend a soft shove away. He shuddered again, when he felt how something slippery, wet and cold was running down his neck. “I so need a shower, man.”

“Woohoo!” the young man shouted and slammed the door of the car shut with more force than necessary, which earned him an head-slap from an unexpected source.  
“Mister Palmer,” Ducky chided from behind the young man. “What did we all tell you about the exigency about silence? Especially outdoors?”  
Palmer, Jimmy Palmer, Doctor Mallards assistant since a few months before all of this started, looked remorseful.  
“I’m sorry, Doctor, but everything had been soo exciting-”  
“You can tell me everything-” the ME said and turned to Gibbs and the small boy in the man’s arms. “-AFTER we had a look at this poor boy.”  
He reached for Tony, who appeared to be more unconscious than sleeping, but was intercepted by Jack, who used his bulky statue to push Ducky aside.  
“Who’s this?” Jack asked and glared at the people around them.  
“Doctor Mallard,” Gibbs answered and Ducky noted with a hint of surprise, that the man’s voice had lost some of the harshness it usually held. “Our Medical Examiner and only doctor and Jimmy Palmer, his assistant.” He nodded with his head over to the driver of the car, “Agent Timothy McGee, my Senior Field Agent and the one who saved our asses out there.”  
“Uhm, hi,” Tim greeted and gave a small wave and looked kind of spooked when Jack simply snorted.  
“You’ve shot Sammy,” he growled.  
“Better shot him, than have him chew on one of our legs, don’t ya think?”  
“Bastard,” Jack bellowed in outrage and would have taken a swing at the man, wouldn’t it have been for Franks who suddenly appeared beside the angry man and intercepted the man’s fist, before he was able to do much damage.  
“Think again, boy. Before you’ll do something ya might regret later,” Franks said and pushed the man a feet away from the small group.   
“You don’t understand, man,” Jack shouted. “Sammy has been...He’d been…”  
A black blur flashed suddenly from somewhere, accompanied by an mantra of “Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!” and Jack gasped in surprise when he was engulfed in a set of arms.  
“Wrong guy, Abbs,” Gibbs said with amusement in his voice and, who ever was hugging the stuffing right out of Jack, gasped, but refused to let go.   
“I don’t care,” Abby said and Jack felt her hands squeezing his upper arms. “I love strong men.”  
Jack blushed before he fought his way out of the female octopus and took a step backwards.  
He looked a little owlish at Abby and almost jumped when she extended her hand.  
“Hi, I’m Abby,” she said with a bright smile which stood in stark contrast with her appearance.  
Skinny and pale skin, clothed in all over black.  
Something draw Jack to her, like a moth to the light.  
“Jack,” he reached for the small hand of hers and shook it once before he let go of it again and cast a searching look around.  
“So, Jack,” Abby stepped nearer and hooked an arm into his. “Let me give you our heartfelt welcome to the Navy Yard.”

 

Tony tried to move away from the cold surface he was laying on and whimpered when a set of strong hands kept him immobile.  
“Shhh, my boy,” Ducky tried to sooth. “Everything will be alright.”  
“Nooo, go 'way-”  
“But, my boy,” Ducky chided. “I'm only here to help you.”  
“Tony,” Jack stepped up to the table and ran a hand over the boy's sweaty head. “You need to calm down.”  
Bleary eyes opened and cast a searching look around until they fixed themselves on Jack's face, “Jack?”  
“Yeah, buddy, it's me.”  
“Where's Sarah?”  
Jack flinched, but was saved from answering when Gibbs stepped up beside him and bend over the small body.  
“Hi,” he greeted in a low voice and smiled slightly, when green eyes found his.

Jackson Gibbs watched from the doorway how his son and the older ME cared for the small and apparently sick boy and frowned at the people around them.  
Mike Franks sat on a chair, placed at the head of the table, where he could keep watching everyone.  
The man called Jack was carefully pushed aside and Abby, Jackson's favorite lady in black, stood at the other side of the room, worrying her lower lip with her teeth and was bouncing from one feet to the other.

“Duck?” Jethro's concerned voice caught the older man's attention and he watched how his son, who'd turned into a cold and bitter man after the death of his two girls, had his gaze fixed on the now withering boy on the table.


End file.
